Queen Mother's POV

I stepped into my daughter's room with a broken and saddened heart. Hot tears slipped down my face as the full view of the room graced my eyes.

The room was quiet and warm, with smooth stone walls and a high ceiling made from dark wood.

Gentle light came from oil lamps in clay holders, and at the side was a round table near the window, which held polished bowls of herbs, feathers, and moonstones.

Animal skin rugs covered the floor, and at the center was a wooden bed with my daughter lying lifelessly on it, covered in a woven blanket.

My baby has been like this...